If SVU Were A Soap
by EnforcerAndAccuserFan
Summary: What if Dick Wolf had not followed his instincts when it came to the storylines of "Law & Order: SVU?" You might end up with some interesting scenes! Next up: The killer strikes again? I own no "Law & Order" characters.
1. Chapter 1

If SVU Were A Soap…

**If SVU Were A Soap…**

Elliot couldn't believe his ears. _All this time, after I reconciled with her, worked overtime to pay for the baby items, gave up additional overtime to shop for those things with her, lived up to every promise I'd made--_

Kathy's trembling words broke into his stunned thoughts. "I--I'm sorry, Elliot. I never meant--I didn't think--"

"No, Kathy, you didn't think!" Elliot blasted, tears brimming his enraged eyes. "You didn't think that you'd get into a car crash, you didn't think the baby would develop jaundice, and you didn't think that I wouldn't be able to donate blood to 'my' son because our types are incompatible!" He paused, heaving with rage. "What'd you do, just figured he was gonna be a Type O like you?!"

Her face now tear-streaked, Kathy managed: "He-he said…his mother was an O…"

"Oh, great, you two _planned_ the cover-up!" Elliot exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "So, who is he, huh? Someone at your job?!"

"No, _yours_."

_No--no! It can't be! It can't be!!_

But when Stabler turned around, he saw the unmistakable grim face of Sergeant Edward Tucker of Internal Affairs.


	2. Chapter 2

**If SVU Were A Soap…**

**Part II**

"Well, this is quite a turnout for 'intimate ceremony,'" quipped Detective Alexandra Eames to her partner, Detective Robert Goren, as the two slipped into an occupied rear pew.

"It's 'intimate' enough," he answered with a grin. "I mean, most of the people here _are_ involved in law enforcement."

She quietly giggled, knowing that the junior detective was correct. Although the invitations had reportedly been extended to a few close family members, intimate friends, and of course, to select members of the brass, the sanctuary was a sea of police officers (active and retired) and prosecutors. In addition, there were a number of civilians present as well, including members of the couple's families and a few local politicians.

_But most of the people here--like me and Bobby--came uninvited to wish Captain Cragen and Mrs. Greevey--soon to be Mrs. Cragen--every bit of happiness that they deserve after first Max, then Marie died._

Suddenly remembering the pain of her own widowhood, Eames quickly switched her line of thought.

"Do you think Sergeant Tucker is actually going to show?" she whispered to her partner.

"No way," Bobby quietly responded. "Not after that…thing with his best man's wife."

Eames frown, puzzled. "The Chief of Detectives is the best man--oh, you mean his best _detective_."

Goren smirked. "Tucker's not _that_ audacious," he whispered in regard to her erroneous first conclusion. "But seriously, the only reason he received an invitation was for the sake of interdepartmental relations. Besides, the captain sent them out before--"

At the first bars of the processional music, the detective terminated his explanations. Along with the other guests, he focused his attention on the pudgy little ring bearer and the freckle-faced flower girl (Cragen's grandnephew and grandniece.) They were followed by the Marie's niece, the maid of honor, who was quite fetching in three-quarter length pastel pink. Then, as the music changed, the bride maid her entrance, escorted by her eldest son, Maxwell, Jr.

Rising in accordance to etiquette, Bobby watched the pair happily. _He's been crying--I can tell from here...he's still misty-eyed...she looks great in her green-tinted gown covered with white lace._

Eames leaned close to his ear. "What do red and white roses together mean?"

"Togetherness."

Soon Marie and her son were at the altar, and the ceremony began. For all of the witnesses, it was rather brief, though doubtlessly heartfelt. Before long, the priest asked if anyone had an objection. It was at that moment that Goren overheard the last hard footsteps before--

"Don! Don! Don!" shouted the brunette who burst in, arms raised in a gesture that seem to say simultaneously "Stop the wedding" and "I want to embrace you".

"What the--?" "Is this a joke?!" "Some whack job--"

Moving quickly, Goren got up and dashed after the woman to seize her from behind. Then, catching the handcuffs that Alex tossed to him, he began sternly: "Lady, you're under arrest for disorderly con--"

"No, no, don't!"

As stunned hush fell over the church, the agape Cragen, his gloved hand still holding the uneasy Marie's, walked slowly but steadily. The Chief of Detectives trailed them cautiously, one hand gesturing for the Greevey men to stay back and the other on his service revolver.

When he stopped in front of the unexpected guest, Cragen looked long and hard before speaking.

"Your…hair is longer," he said in a monotone. "And it's has a few grays. You've lost some weight, too, but…it's really you, Marge."

**Author's note**: _Special thanks to Metalchick36 for suggesting this story._


	3. Chapter 3

If SVU Was Written Like A Soap…

**If SVU Was Written Like A Soap…**

**Part III**

Author's note: Some of the details of Marge Cragen's last flight have been altered.

Later, in a meeting room in the church, Don, Marie, the Chief of Detectives, Goren, Eames, and Munch (who had insisted on being present) stood facing Marge. The latter sat in an upholstered chair, tightly clenching the arms. Looking directly at her husband, she began her tale.

"As I've since learned, some people died in the crash, some walked away with injuries, and some were missing and presumed dead," she said. "I obviously was put into the latter category, but I had actually survived and wandered away from the scene before authorities could arrive…"

"But…where did you go?!" Don exclaimed. "And why haven't you contacted me until now?!"

"I had amnesia," Marge responded. "I had suffered a blow to my head during the crash. I now remember wandering away from the crash scene in the swamp, becoming more dirty and disheveled as I slogged through all mud, water, and mosquitoes! Oh, Don, I lost my shoes, my I.D., and my uniform jacket and hat! By nightfall, when I finally was found by some state troopers on a highway, they thought I was just another homeless person! So they took me to a hospital and then later to a homeless shelter. I've been in the shelter system since then, until I recently slipped on a banana peel, fell, and hit my head on a sidewalk."

"But…but why didn't you call me right away?" he asked, puzzled.

"Telephone's not a way for this kind of reunion," she replied. "You wouldn't have believed me. And I wanted to return to you as soon as possible--"

"How--how did you make it home?" Don interrupted.

"There is a branch of our bank in Florida," she replied. "I made a withdrawal from savings, bought a train ticket--no more flying for me--and made my way to Bensonhurst."

"What, you mean showing up at my wedding's suppose to be better?!" Don exclaimed, as he ran a hand over his head.

"But I didn't know you were going to remarry until I saw the wedding-themed balloons and ribbons festooning the backyard fence! That's when I told the cab driver to head here, the church Marie attends!" Marge looked at her friend directly. "Call it a hunch."

"Oh, _please_, Marjorie," Marie said dourly. "Let's not pretend what's going on here. Max, rest his soul, told me all about your _'hunches'_ about me and Donnie. That's why he started visiting less frequently1--and why I had to all but exile myself from your home, even after Max was killed! And Don has since told me about the 3rd degree you gave him after we attended Mr. Magadan's2 sentencing!"

Her cheeks rouged, but Marge insisted, "You're just exaggerating!"

"But I'm not 'exaggerating about how Don feels more welcomed by his new in-laws than your--"

"Marie, please!" Don turned to his almost-wife, taking her hands into his. Then, not releasing his grip, he looked sympathetically towards Marge. "I'm sorry, but I…I cannot just run back to you. I've put our relationship in the past, learned to live without you, and finally, I learned to live with Marie--and her sons."

"But, Don, what about _our_ daughter, who's still in foster care in Florida?!" Marge shot back.

1 In Season One of Law & Order, Marge made a reference to Max's less frequent visits. Of course, by then he was no longer Don's partner; he was his Sergeant.

2 Daniel Magadan, Junior, killed Max Greevey at the beginning of Season Two of Law & Order.


	4. Chapter 4

**If SVU WERE WRITTEN LIKE A SOAP**

**Part IV**

Having slipped behind the wheel of his car, John took time to call Olivia on his cell.

"Listen," he said after they exchanged greetings, "you've probably just heard Goren's announcement?"

"Yes, and I'm still in shock," she replied, "but then, so is everyone else here!"

"Did our esteemed colleague tell you that I'm going along with the 'Terrific Trio' to Florida?"

After a long pause, she answered more quietly, "No. Why are you going?"

"You know why," he answered confidentially, glancing around cautiously. "And don't tell me 'it's not the same.' Frankie is just as much her father's child as Cassie is ours." _Even though she lives in Oregon and thinks we're "Auntie Liv" and "Uncle John."_

_Author's note: Special thanks to WinchesterPhantom for suggesting this storyline._


	5. Chapter 5

Don, Marie, Marge, and John endured a long evening flight to Miami, Florida. Cragen sat quietly between the window and his fiancée, who clutched his hand and regularly interacted with him. Meanwhile, right across the aisle, Marge sat fretfully, keeping herself turned away from the window on her side and making her nervous feelings known. Yet she refused offers of magazines, books, or warm milk. Finally, as Don and Marie romantically split an in-flight meal, the former flight attendant settled down enough to listen to Munch's theories regarding alien abductions.

After arriving in Miami and renting a car, they soon arrived at the foster home. Although it was now 8:15PM, the foster parents permitted a reunion between Don and his 9-year-old daughter, who, Marge immediately noticed, was the spitting image of her mother. Frankie was very excited to have "my real daddy" and looked forward to living in New York "with my folks!"

"Well, honey, you, uh, are going to live with Marie, too," Don reminded gently.

"And your three new brothers," the future stepmother added quickly, causing Marge's face to redden.

"Oh, yeah," the child responded more soberly, looking apprehensively at the woman she had been introduced to earlier. "I forgot."

"Exuberance can produce amnesia," Munch interjected, trying to rescue the situation.

"What's he talking about?" Frankie squinted at her father.

"I ask that question a lot around Uncle Munchie," Don laughed. "Now it's probably past your bedtime, so why don't…your mother and I see you to bed. There's a lot do be done tomorrow."

Marie watched coolly as man, woman, and child moved together down the hallway. Then she excused herself to go outside "to call home." But once outdoors she dialed the number of a fellow police widow who had used her benefits to attend law school.

"Hazel, it's Marge," she said conspiratorially. "Ten guesses why I'm calling."


	6. Chapter 6

**If SVU Was A Soap...**

**Part V**

Olivia was just stepping out of her shower when the bell sounded at her door.

"Who could that be?" she thought out loud as she hastily fastened her red silk robe, hurrying to the door.

Peering through the peep hole, she gasped and then unfastened the locks.

"Elliot, what---what happened?!" She exclaimed as he stumbled across the threshold.

"Liv," he said groggily, "ah can't ta' git…" He fell against her.

"El…come on…" she struggled to get him to the couch.

"She dun me wrooong…"

It was difficult, but she managed to get her drunken partner settled on his stomach. "Now I've got to call…who?" Olivia was indecisive.

"You know, you really need to learn two things: close your front door and stop talking to yourself."

"Huh?!" Olivia looked up to see the tall, willowy teenager standing just inside the apartment. She had a carry-on bag over her shoulder.

"Cassie, what are you doing here?" Olivia could hardly speak above a whisper.

Pushing a stray lock of black hair from her face, the girl replied dryly, "Well, right now I'm looking at my mother."

Author's note: As experienced viewers know, children on soap operas tend to age very quickly and at various rates, as you have seen.


	7. Chapter 7

**If SVU Were Written Like A Soap...**

**Part VI**

Stunned by her daughter's newfound knowledge, Olivia managed to recover enough to gesture for her child to follow her down the hall to her bedroom. _I've got to keep Elliot from finding out about her! I've got enough explanations to make to enough people as it is!_

"OK, listen," Olivia said a minute later, perched on her bed. "I had a...stress-releasing night with a colleague---"

"'Uncle John,'" Cassie broke in sardonically, nodding.

"Afterward, I accepted an undercover assignment with the F.B.I.," she continued quickly. "When I discovered that I was pregnant, the radical group I had infiltrated also knew---I passed out at a meeting, and one of them took me to a holistic physician that they trusted. When he suggested that I gestate naturally at a secret commune/hideout, it seemed too suspicious for me to say no."

"And after I was born, you just dumped me with the Bunsens." Cassie smirked, shaking her head.

"Shortly after you were born, someone figured out who I was," Olivia explained sadly. "Luckily, Dean---Agent Porter---was able to get a heads-up and got us both out of harm's way. For safety reasons they split us up temporarily. But, when John and I saw you next, you were 11 months old and bonded to your foster parents. We…just couldn't take you from the only home you'd known. And so we asked the Bunsens if they wanted to adopt…" She paused, trying to control her surging emotions.

By now, Cassie's expression had softened, and the teen opened her mouth to speak---

Olivia's phone interrupted. Not wanting to disturb Elliot, the detective picked it up on the first ring. "Benson."

"Olivia, it's Dean! Have you heard from Cassie?!" Porter's voice was urgent.

"She's sitting in front of me," she answered reassuringly. "I take it the Bunsens are frantic?"

"No, they're dead."

Meanwhile, at a desk in a secret lair, someone wearing black gloves used a laptop to book a flight to Florida…


	8. Chapter 8

**If SVU Were A Soap…**

**Part VII**

In Florida, John Munch, clad in black pajamas, was about to retire for the night when his cell phone rang. He became concerned when he saw the phone number. In fact, he had a gut instinct why she was calling at such a late hour.

"Olivia, what is it?" His voice was low because he was sharing the room with Don Cragen, who was still in the shower.

"First, Cassie is here, and she knows everything---"

"How is she, Liv?!" His suspicions confirmed, his immediate concern was his daughter's well-being.

"She physically fine, but her parents---the Bunsens aren't. According to Agent Porter, they've been murdered."

John was silent for a second before he spoke urgently. "Where are you?!"

"I'm at my apartment, but Agent Porter is coming to take us somewhere else. In the meantime, I've already called Brian Cassidy to take Elliot to his place to sleep it off---he showed up drunk earlier, right before Cassie arrived---"

"Liv, how is she taking all this?" He glanced at the bathroom door as the shower sounds ceased.

With a sigh, she replied more gently, "She's curled up on my bed in obvious shock and grief. I…I guess I have my work cut out for me as a mother."

"Look, I have some loose ends to tie up here, but I'm going to join the two of you as soon as I can, come Hell or high water! Keep me in the loop, OK?" John was resolute.

After an exchange of farewells, the detective closed his phone and turned as Cragen exited the bathroom, towel around his waist. "Everything all right, John?" the captain, concerned, asked.

"Not with Elliot, but that's to be expected." John launched into an edited account of his recent conversation. His superior had enough on his plate with his own paternity/relationship issues; there was no need for further revelations---yet.

Meanwhile, across the country, a friendly taxi driver initiated conversation with his latest airport-bound passenger: "So, where are we jettin' to t'night?"


	9. Chapter 9

**If SVU Were A Soap…**

**Part VIII**

**A Miami family courtroom, 10:45AM**

"Well, people," the judge said firmly, "after hearing all of the parties involved in this most unusual case, I have decided to rule in accordance to young Frances' best interests. First, let me state that since Ms. Cragen was still technically married to Mr. ---excuse me, Captain Cragen at the time of conception, he is legally presumed to be the child's father. So, I won't order blood tests in this case."

His Honor paused as Don exchanged smiles with Marie. Then, moving some papers, he continued. His manner became more sober as he spoke.

"Ms. Cragen, I am very pleased that you've regained your memory and thus have the promise of a brighter future for yourself and your child. However, that's all you have at the moment---a future. You have no job, your husband has indicated his intentions to remarry, and you are legally deceased. So, pending a home study---which I will order after we've been adjourned---I'm inclined to award custody to her father. Someone will notify each of you when I'm ready with a decision, hopefully by this afternoon. I suggest you go and get further acquainted with your daughter, sir. Court adjourned!"

"Wow, this is moving along quickly," Munch said minutes later, after being apprised of events in the hallway. "I'd say that someone is working behind the scenes."

"Well, I'm not involved in any conspiracies," Don said, still smiling about his fortune

"I guess this is our lucky day," Marie said with an "innocent" shrug. _Thanks, Hazel, I owe you one!_

**Two hours later, in a Miami ice cream parlor**

_I can't believe it. Here __he__ is with his wife (wasn't she dead?!), Munch, Marie Greevey, and what appears to be __his child__. The question is: what do I do with such a rich setup? If Munch is __here__, he obviously doesn't know about my activities out west. But even when he finds out, he won't even think about me, so maybe, just maybe I have chance here in Florida…_


	10. Chapter 10

**If SVU Were A Soap…**

**Part IX**

"You can stay with me for as long as you need, Elliot," Brian Cassidy said to his hung-over guest, handing him two caplets of pain reliever. "You can bring your stuff over whenever it's convenient."

"Thanks, Brian, I really appreciate this." Stabler took the pills and leaned back in the living room chair, sighing.

"You feel good enough to work?" Cassidy gave him a concerned squint.

"Yeah, sure; let me call Olivia and tell her thanks." With an effort he stood. "Where's my cell phone?"

Meanwhile, in a "safe house" outside of New York City, Agent Dean Porter closed his cell and turned to Olivia, who was coming from a rear bedroom. "How is she?"

"She's asleep finally," Benson replied. "Poor kid, she really feels bad about leaving her adoptive parents so abruptly with just a brief note. But at least she wasn't there when they were murdered---and I'm thankful for that."

"Well, I have some more good news," Porter said. "According to my colleagues, this isn't the work of ecological terrorists. Of course, the bad news is that the evidence points to an _individual_ wanting to kill the parents---and Cassie."

Olivia's mind was instinctively working, pondering various suspects and motives, when her cell phone interrupted. Excusing herself, she hurried to the bathroom and closed the door. "Hello?"

"Hey, Liv, I just want to tell you thanks," Elliot said.

"No problem, El," she replied hastily. "Look, I won't be into work today; something came up. I'll get back to you later---bye!"

After the hasty disconnect, Elliot stared at his cell phone, puzzled. _What could possibly come up that would cause __Olivia__ to miss work?!_

**Miami, Florida, 3:15PM**

After walking her parents and stepmother-to-be to their rental car, Frankie asked excitedly, "Why can't we go to New York _now?"_

"Don't you have to pack, honey?" Don asked, though his daughter's idea warmed him.

"I don't have a lot of stuff; I can do it in a jiffy," she replied eagerly. "And the Banners won't miss me; I've only been here two weeks."

Don kissed her forehead and cheeks. "It's only going to be one more night, Frankie," he said tenderly. "We'll pick you up first thing in the morning, like the Banners and we agreed."

"All right, Daddy," she resignedly, embracing him tightly, unaware of the furtive surveillance across the street.

_So, you're not coming back until tomorrow, eh? Well, that will be time enough for me! I wish I could see the looks on Cragen's face when he learns that there won't be any happy homecoming for that family!_


	11. Chapter 11

**If SVU Were A Soap…**

**Part X**

As he drove himself, Marie, and Marge back to the hotel, Don mused, "You know, there's really no reason that we can't take her back with us tonight. The judge did award me custody this morning."

"And he said that you could 'take her home at your leisure,' Don," Marie reminded happily. "I say it's time to go home. I'll tell the boys to make up a bedroom---I know they'll have it ready by…"

As the couple continued to make plans, Marge sat dourly in the back seat. _And so it begins already. I've got to find a way to get the upper hand and get my child and husband back---quick!_

**30 minutes later…**

John sat on his hotel bed and called Olivia on her cell. "Hello, Liv? How's Cassie?!"

"She's sad, frightened and worried," came the reply.

"Thanks for not holding back anything," Munch responded dryly before adding, "Look, I'm sorry. It's just that I wish I was there to support our child through this. By the way, I've been on the phone to my Baltimore contacts. So far, no one's been able to come up with any suspects. I take it you're having the same luck, or else you would have called me."

"We're stumped, but the F.B.I. is still looking," she said. "In the meantime, Cassie and I are to stay remain in protective custody."

"Where is that, by the way?! We just booked a flight that leaves in an hour, so I'll be in NYC soon. And I want to be with our daughter!" Munch's voice took on a new urgency.

Olivia paused before saying, "You'll have to talk to Agent Porter, then. Hold on."

_Oh, great, I gotta deal with the omnipresent "guardian of all minors!" Well, at least they're keeping my kid safe!_

**Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, 10PM**

Marge Cragen walked about the house she had shared with Don, silently thanking him again for permitting her to stay there---at least for the foreseeable future. She relished its familiarity and relived key moments of her married past. And then she began plotting her future.

_Once I've been declared legally alive---I'll get started on that tomorrow---the house will be half mine again. Then I'll be able to fight the divorce, in and out of the court. After all, I'm the only one who can tell him all about our Frankie. Plus, he's generous enough to let me be a part of her life. So, all I have to do is build a parenthood bond while bringing up the past. Then he'll see that we should be together again!_

With those final thoughts, Marge went to shower and retire for the night.

Meanwhile, in the Greevey house, Marie was also contemplating the future. When Don, having tucked in Frankie, joined her and her sons downstairs in the kitchen, she brought up her idea.

"We lost money on the wedding, though the food was donated," she said. "But we still have some honeymoon money left over."

"And you want to use it to fly to Vegas as soon as Marge is legally among the living," Don broke in, smiling slightly.

"You _are_ a detective, dear," she laughed, leaning forward for a kiss as her sons turned away grimacing.

"I'd love that more than anything, Marie," Cragen said gently, "but we have Frankie to consider. In just a few short days, she's met her father and stepfamily, flown on a plane for the first time, and moved to a new state. And now she has to become acclimated to her new surroundings. So, let's take things one step at a time, one day at a time. When Frankie's more settled, we'll marry."

"Very well," she reluctantly agreed. _He's right; I can't---nor should I---try to force the girl to adapt. I'll just have to be patient---and make sure Marge doesn't attempt anything devious._

**An undisclosed location near the New York-Ontario border**

After stepping out of the van, an alert Olivia helped her weary daughter exit and put an arm around her as they walked towards the farmhouse, preceded by agents. _I've wanted to be a mother to her for years. I guess I should have watched what I wished for_.

Entering the building, they were greeted by a familiar face. "Hello, Olivia. I take it this is young Cassandra?" Dr. Huang said.

"H-hullo," the teen managed, meeting the doctor's eyes with her red ones.

Sensing the girl's distress, Huang continued: "Why don't we go into the parlor?"

Nodding, she slipped her hand into her mother's and followed him to a room off to the right. There, John Munch set his cup and saucer on a lamp table and rose to greet his daughter. "Cassie, honey, I'm sorry…for everything." He held out his arms to envelop her as she raced to him. Olivia followed more slowly, placing her hands on her daughter's shoulders.

John murmured, "We're both here for you now, daughter. We've always loved you, and we're not going let anyone harm you." _No matter whom it is._

**The Greevey residence, 1AM**

"Yes, this is Captain Cragen," Don spoke uneasily into his cell, careful not to wake Marie's sons in their sleeping bags nearby. "What's this all about, Sergeant?"

"I'll get right to the point: can you vouch for the whereabouts of one Frances Cragen, a female minor, age nine years?"

"Yes, she's asleep in the bedroom next to mine, why?"

Sighing, the sergeant stated: "Her foster parents, Mitchell and Lenore Ryan, were discovered murdered in their home…"


	12. Chapter 12

**New York State, the next morning**

"Do you think Munch can step away from the family reunion for a few hours?" asked Agent Porter urgently.

"Well, yes, at this point I think it's feasible," Dr. Huang explained. "Why?"

"We just got a call from One Police Plaza. The most recent foster parents of Captain Cragen's daughter were murdered last night, and Munch's P.O.V. is needed!"

**Meanwhile, at One Police Plaza, New York City, New York**

"…as Sergeant Munch pulled from the curb, we waved," Don, in an interrogation room, finished.

"…that _everyone_ was in good spirits when we left," Marge concluded in a different room.

"…hugs and handshakes all around," Marie stated with finality in yet another interrogation room.

"…sat between Mom and Daddy all the way to the airport!" exclaimed jubilantly Frankie to Dr. Elizabeth Olivet.

"Well, what's the verdict?" the Chief of Detectives asked minutes later in his office.

"We're going to take Detective Munch's statement when he arrives," said the lead Miami homicide detective, "but at this point, unless he gives us something from left field, we're back at square one."

"_You_ are, but _we're_ not," replied the Chief. "A few minutes ago the F.B.I. called. Apparently, there's a connection between your case and another in Oregon. A couple of agents are on their way from the Bureau's New York office, so why don't you have a cup of coffee in the interim?"

Meanwhile, in a New Jersey diner, the manager/owner asked a waitress: "What happened here?" He pointed to a nearby table, where a barely touched pizzaburger meal shared space with a ten dollar bill.

She shrugged. "She seemed preoccupied, and, uh, a little out of it, but she was polite. I guess she was in a hurry to get to the City."

"You mean New York?"

She nodded. "When I came with the food, she was looking down at the table mumbling "New York, New York."


	13. Chapter 13

**One Police Plaza, sometime later**

After Munch arrived, he joined Cragen and the others, and the brainstorming and research began. First, it was determined that the Bunsens had been caring for an older foster child for several years, until the decision to adopt Cassie. Then the formerly childless couple had decided to opt out of the foster care system, sending their former charge back into the sea of transient homes.

Next, the detectives worked to learn the child's name and whereabouts. After making telephone calls, calling in favors, and sending faxes, they quickly learned that the "child" had aged out of Washington State's custody the year before. Her name: Francesca Profaci, daughter of disgraced former NYPD detective Frank Profaci and his late wife Shirley.

"But of course! Now everything makes sense!" exclaimed Don. "Francesca saw herself as being rejected in favor of a baby, so she apparently carried a grudge that morphed into something much more dangerous during the proceeding years. Thus, she went back to the Bunsens for revenge against the child that had what she had so badly wanted!"

"But how does _your_ daughter fit in, Don?" inquired the Chief.

"My guess is kismet," Munch cut in.

"What?" His superior gave a puzzled frown.

"What he means is fate, or more accurately, a twist of fate," Cragen explained, giving his sergeant a warning glance. "She came, she murdered, and then she escaped to Florida, where she spotted us at some point. It could have been anywhere---exiting the ice cream shop, dropping Frankie off at her foster parents---and once Francesca put two and two together she decided to take the opportunity to 'avenge' her father, whom I arrested as the head of an anticorruption task force1."

"And thus she blames _you_ for everything that followed---her parents' separation, the move to Washington to start over, Shirley's death, her foster care placement, and all the homes that followed," one of the Florida detectives finished.

"OK, now's the time to act," stated one of the FBI agents. "While the Bureau puts out an alert for Ms. Profaci, you and your ladies, Captain Cragen, can all go into protective custody---"

Just then, the door flew open abruptly, revealing a very concerned Detective Alexandra Eames. "Excuse me, Chief, but we just learned that Marge Cragen slipped out of here with Frankie!"

1 In Exiled: A Law & Order Movie, Detective Frank Profaci of the 27th Precinct (Homicide Division) confessed to Detective Mike Logan that he was taking bribes and provided other "services" to organized crime. Don secretly witnessed their meeting and reluctantly took Profaci into custody.


	14. Chapter 14

As the taxi moved down the street, Marge smiled deviously: _That mistaken caller on my cell was such a blessing in disguise!_

"…she told us that it was you with instructions!" exclaimed an excited Marge, embracing Don as he and the other law enforcement officers arrived in the interrogation room.

_If I had known before how readily a cop would take the word of a fellow officer's wife--- _Marge interrupted her rumination to giggle, causing Frankie to give her an inquiring look.

"I swear, Captain, Chief," said a mortified uniform, "I didn't think she was gonna use your name in vain! I mean, she has so much to lose by lying---"

"If we're going to a safe house, why are we headin' to Central Park?" asked Frankie.

"…and when you get off suspension, remember that I never give orders or the location to a 'secret safe house' through a civilian!" roared the Chief of Detectives.

"_Mommy_!" screamed the girl as the red Saturn recklessly approached…


	15. Chapter 15

**A Hospital near One Police Plaza**

"Don…how is…our daughter?" Marge's voice was scarcely above the beep on the heart monitor.

"She's going to be fine," Don reassured, trying to control the various emotions surging within him.

"M---Marie…need to…speak to her."

A minute later, a puzzled Marie appeared at the dying woman's side. "Hello, Marge?"

"P---p---please…forgive me. Take care…of Don, and…Frankie. Love them…so much…could not share…"

"I forgive you, Marge," a touched Marie said, laying her hand over the over woman's. "And I will take care of Don and Frankie---she'll have all the love that this _stepmother _can give."

Smiling at the word "stepmother," Marge closed her eyes. "Thank…you…Marie…" she managed after a pause. Then the monitor gave a continuous beep.

**A diner near Bensonhurst, Brooklyn**

"How do I do this?! How do I do this!?" Francesca Profaci murmured repeatedly before looking up from her coffee cup. _Good, nobody heard me. Still, how am I going to get payback now?! My face is on the news---thank goodness I went to that costume shop in New Jersey! Nobody suspects a grey-haired old lady for anything. But Cragen's going to be on the edge, as will all of the others. How can I—_

Suddenly, the caption on the overhead TV caught her attention. _Marge and Frankie---hospitalized after a car crash? Hmm, maybe I can pull something off…_


	16. Chapter 16

Author's note: _In soap operas villains and villainesses have an uncanny knack for accessing restricted areas. So with that in mind…_

Garbed in hospital scrubs, mask, and cap, Francesca slipped inside of the private hospital room. Moving stealthily, she approached the numerous gifts resting on the window sill. Since she had only a limited time before a nurse made rounds, she quickly seized a large stuffed panda and pounced on the small figure on the bed.

"Police! Freeze!" Detectives Eames and Goren charged out of the bathroom, guns pointed at the startled woman, who had just realized that she was trying to smother a dummy.

A few minutes later, Captain Ross entered a guarded room on another floor. Cragen rose from his seat near the pale sleeping child to give an inquiring look. Smiling reassuringly, Ross nodded and gestured for the relieved parent to follow him into the bathroom.

"She's been taken into our custody," Dan said once they were behind the closed door. "She'll be indicted ASAP, and then we'll send her over to the Feds. That way, in the even their charges get dismissed due to some technicality, we'll be able to get her---unless Florida and/or Oregon want her for murder. In the meantime she'll be under the tightest lock and key at all times."

"That's a relief," Don said sighing. "But, how long before I remarry, how will Frankie take to Marie _now_, and should I transfer to less time consuming position?"

Meanwhile, at One Police Plaza, Munch calls Olivia.

"It's all over, Liv, Francesca is in custody," he said.

"Great," Benson replied, sighing.

"I'm told that you'll be heading back to the Big Apple tomorrow morning," he continued. "And from there we can figure out a new custody arrangement."

"Right, of course," she said, while thinking: _Where should I find a bigger apartment? What about her school hours? Should I quit SVU? How would Elliot cope with that loss on top of everything else?_

Meanwhile, back in Cassidy's apartment, Elliot stared at the TV in the living room wondering: _Should I find another apartment now or file for divorce and sue for house? Where can I find a good lawyer, and should I try to call the kids first? Why doesn't Olivia answer her home or cell phones? Is her absence tied to Munch's? If so, in what way?_

All these questions would be answered, with more problems and solutions to follow, if SVU were a soap!

THE END---for now!


End file.
